this will be 'til the end of time
by sawitinhereyes
Summary: honestly, he still can't believe he gets to spend the rest of his birthdays with this girl, but he stopped questioning it a long time ago, because you don't ask questions when you get everything you ever wanted. / damon & elena, post-6x21


**Note:** all you need to know is that 6x22 never happened. Alaric  & Jo got married and had their babies, Stefan & Caroline eventually got their shit together, and oh yeah, Damon took the cure.

a glimpse into what human like might have looked like for Damon & Elena, set on some of Damon's birthdays over the years.

{ I own nothing }

* * *

 _ **twenty-four**_ _  
_... ... ...

He's never been a big fan of birthdays. He never cared for them as a child, and when he became a vampire, there wasn't anything to celebrate, because he wasn't getting any older. He hasn't celebrated his birthday in 150 years.

According to Elena, that all changes today.

He doesn't regret taking the cure with her. Everyone said he would, said he'd miss being a vampire and everything that came with it, but they were wrong. He won't lie and say he loves being human, but it's not all bad. He feels a lot more level-headed these days. He'd been a vampire so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to feel normal, regulated emotions. He still feels everything, but it doesn't consume him, doesn't dictate his every action.

And he gets to be with his girl for the rest of his life, however long that may be. He sure as hell doesn't mind that perk.

Except the fact that he hates birthdays, and Elena loves them. So of course, now that he's human and birthdays actually mean something again, she's made it her mission to change his mind.

"I get not celebrating when you're a vampire, because they're meaningless, but you hated them even as a child?" she wonders.

They're sitting on their bed around the tray she brought him, eating slightly burnt toast and rubbery eggs and soggy fruit. He doesn't know why the fuck she brought him breakfast in bed when he's the only one of them who can actually cook, but she looks so happy that he decides, for once, to keep the snarky comments to himself. She's too damn adorable when she smiles.

(The balloon tied to the tray handle is a little much, though.)

"You know my dysfunctional family history," he reminds her, biting into a piece of bacon that's only halfway burnt to a crisp. "Mom tried to make it special, but my father usually ended up punishing me for something somehow and I'd end up in my room. And then after she left, birthdays were just another day."

Elena bites into a piece of her toast, makes a face. "Ew." She puts the toast down, surveys the rest of her breakfast. "Maybe I should just leave the breakfast cooking to you from now on."

He smirks and moves the tray out of the way. "It's cute that you tried, though." He lays back against the pillows, tugs her with him so she's half on top of him. "I can safely say that no one's ever made me breakfast in bed before."

She links her hands on his chest, rests her chin on them to look up at him. "You probably wish you could still say that."

He brushes the hair away from her face. "It's the thought that counts, I guess." He wraps his arms around her waist, pulls her fully on top of him. "But I can think of better birthday gifts you can give me in this bed than breakfast."

"I'm sure you can," she laughs, leans down to kiss his lips. He lets the kiss draw out, breathes her in, holds her close.

If every birthday is gonna be like this, he's pretty sure he could learn to love them.

* * *

 ** _twenty-five  
_**... ... ...

He wakes up alone in their bed on his birthday. At 7 am.

He'd be annoyed if he didn't know exactly where she is.

His poor girl has been relentlessly trying to distract herself for the last week and a half. After she took her MCAT about a month ago, she spent the first week sleeping and the second week reviewing her notes to find every possible question she could have missed, and then by the third week, she was spiraling. He'd wake up in the middle of the night and find her looking over her books in the living room, or filling out a study workbook, or going through her flashcards for the billionth time.

So he's not surprised when he trudges down the stairs in search of coffee and finds her typing furiously on her laptop, her study materials spread out on the coffee table in front of her. He makes his way to the kitchen, emerges with two cups of coffee and sets one down in front of her. He takes the seat next to her, and she doesn't even look up, so he just props his feet up and watches her work for a while.

It's not until she reaches for a book that's wedged underneath his foot that she blinks herself out of her trance and looks over at him. "How long have you been sitting there?"

He looks at his watch. "Only an hour or so."

She sighs, lets out a frustrated noise. "I failed. I know I failed. The more I look at this stuff, the more I'm convinced every single answer I gave was wrong."

"Stop that." He sets his coffee down, moves her laptop from her lap and pulls her with him when he leans back again. "Stop. I have never seen anybody study for a test as hard as you studied for that one. It's been three weeks since the test and you're _still_ studying, for fuck's sake. I'm sure you did fine."

Her face crumbles. "Oh my god, I'm horrible." She sits up. "It's your birthday, and I'm just sitting here obsessing over these scores and on the verge of a meltdown over things that haven't happened yet."

"Elena." He pulls her back to him. "Listen to me. It's going to be fine."

"But what if it's not? What if I failed and I'm never gonna go to medical school? What the hell am I supposed to do then?"

"Then you'll figure something else out, but that's not gonna happen," he insists. "You really are gonna have a meltdown if you don't just _breathe_."

She closes her eyes, lets her forehead rest against his, takes a few deep breaths. When she opens her eyes, they don't look as frantic, and he thinks he even sees a hint of a smile on her lips. She leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet. "Happy birthday."

He opens his mouth to speak when her laptop signals that she has a new e-mail, and she almost kicks him where it hurts scrambling to pull the thing into her lap to check. He sits up, runs his hand across the small of her back, and when she looks back at him, she looks like she might burst into tears.

"518," she whispers, her smile almost splitting her face in half. "I passed! Oh my God! Damon!"

He pulls her in, crushes his lips against hers, and it's clumsy and their teeth are crashing together and they're both laughing. "I fucking told you," he says when she pulls away, looks back at the e-mail to make sure she didn't imagine it.

"Thank you," she laughs when she turns back to him. "Thank you for believing in me, for supporting me, for not treating me like a crazy person for the last few weeks even though I've been acting like one. And I'm sorry that I've been so wrapped up in my own drama that I haven't gotten you anything for your birthday, I promise, I'll make it up to you-"

He shakes his head, cuts her off. "You know what you can do to make it up to me?"

She rolls her eyes. "I know exactly what you're about to say-"

"Marry me."

Her eyes widen in shock and her mouth falls open. "What?"

"I don't need you to get me a birthday gift," he insists. "I just want you to be my wife."

She searches his eyes, but she won't find any hesitation there, because he's not joking. He's been waiting for the right time to ask, waiting until she was done with her tests and things had settled down. This isn't impulse. He's thought this through, and he proves it by reaching into the end table drawer and pulling out a ring box.

He turns back to her, sees the smile on her face and her eyes shining with tears, and when he opens the box, she covers her mouth with her hand.

"I think I used up this speech when I told you I wanted to take the cure with you," he smirks. "But I'll say it again. All I want in this life is to be your husband, your partner, the father of your kids. I've been waiting for almost two centuries for this. It's about time you let me do it."

He knows what her answer is. He wouldn't have asked if he didn't. So he just pulls the ring out of the box, slips it on her finger, looks up just in time for her to push him back onto the couch and kiss him until their lips are raw and they can't breathe.

It may not have much competition, but he's pretty certain this is the best birthday he's ever had.

* * *

 ** _twenty-seven  
_**... ... ...

They spend his first birthday as husband and wife on the beach in Barbados.

He surprised her with this trip a few weeks ago, and it came at a perfect time for both of them. She starts medical school in just a few weeks, and he's got some things in the works that have to start rolling around the same time. They've been married for six months, and while that honestly didn't change much about their life together, they both know things are about to change for real.

He's trying not to think about it too much. About how they're moving from their cute little townhouse at Whitmore to a tiny little apartment on the upper west side to be close to her school, because she didn't just pass the MCAT, she did well enough to go Ivy League, and Columbia practically begged her. About how she's gonna be drowning in books and tests and he's gonna be busy starting a business and they're hardly gonna have time to do anything together.

They'll make it. He knows they will. It's just gonna be hard for a while.

"Stop thinking so hard."

They're lying on a cabana bed on the beach, resting from a full day of snorkling and hiding from the sun. (One thing he definitely did not miss about being human? Sunburn.) He's got one arm crooked behind his head and the other arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him as she snoozes. Or so he thought, anyway.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are," she smirks, opens her eyes to look up at him. "I can practically hear the wheels in your head turning." She shifts and rests her chin on his chest, and he brushes the hair out of her face, won't meet her eyes. "I know you're worried, but I'm not."

He lifts an eyebrow. "How nice for you."

"No, I just mean… I'm not worried about us. We've made it through so much, Damon. Things that most couples, most _people_ never have to go through, and we've come out the other side stronger every time."

"That was when we were vampires."

"The only difference now is we're facing human obstacles instead of supernatural ones," she laughs. "And if we could conquer the supernatural ones, the human ones will be a piece of cake." She lifts one hand, uses her fingertip to trace his jawline. "I meant what I said when we took our vows. Better or worse, sickness and health, rich or poor."

"I know. So did I."

"Okay, then what do we really have to worry about?" She smiles down at him, and he runs his hand down her back, lets his lips quirk up in response. "As long as we're in this together, we can get through anything."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Have I ever told you that your eternal optimism is super annoying?"

She giggles, and she's so fucking adorable that he can't help but smile back at her. She leans in to kiss him. "I think I've heard that once or twice before."

He doesn't deserve someone like her. Honestly, he still can't believe he gets to spend the rest of his birthdays with this girl, but he stopped questioning it a long time ago, because you don't ask questions when you get everything you ever wanted.

* * *

 ** _twenty-nine_**  
... ... ...

He spends his twenty-ninth birthday putting the finishing touches on his bar for opening night.

His bar. _His_ bar. _His bar_.

It was a long process, opening his own business, but everything fell into place so perfectly it was like fate. He found this fucking awesome location in Tribeca, and it happened to have a loft apartment over it, and wouldn't you know it, the owner was looking for a tenant for both. So he bought the building instead.

(When he told Elena, she almost burst into tears, told him she couldn't believe he remembered that one conversation from so long ago, but why the hell wouldn't he? Her vision of them together is pretty much the reason they're here today.)

He's pretty damn proud of it, if he's being honest. It's a little more old school than some of the other places around: dark woods, leather sofas and chairs, a stage for live music. They've got a pretty badass selection of liquor, including a vast selection of bourbon (of course). Dozens of beers on tap, good bar food, a few highly qualified bartenders. And tonight, it's gonna be packed, and he can't fucking wait.

"Buy me a drink, handsome?"

He looks up from where he's standing behind the bar and sees a beautiful woman sauntering toward him. "I would, but my wife will be here any minute, and she has a bit of a jealous streak."

"She sounds like a pain in the ass." Elena smiles and leans over the bar to kiss him. "Hi."

"Hi." He smiles back. "How was class?"

"Long," she sighs, posting up at a stool while he pours her a glass of wine. "I've got a lot of work to do, but I'm not gonna think about it today." She sips her wine, and he watches her eyes as she looks around, studies his handiwork. "This place is amazing, Damon."

He shrugs. "I kinda like it."

"I'm serious," she insists. "It's different than anything else around, but not so different that you'll alienate the neighborhood. You did it."

He waves her off. "I had a lot of help."

"Oh my God, it figures that the one time you actually deserve to be proud of something, your ego goes dormant," she laughs.

"Oh, my ego is perfectly intact," he smirks. "I'm pretty damn proud of this place. I just know I couldn't have done it without you."

She sips her wine again. "Please. I've been so buried in my books I've hardly had time to breathe."

"And yet you still made time to listen to me vent when nothing was going my way. You let me be whiny and annoying when I was exhausted even though I knew you were even more so." He rests his elbows on the bar, moves his hand to cup her cheek. "You had your own shit going on, but you still made time for my shit."

She hums. "I'm just expecting you to return the favor when I'm working twenty-six hour shifts during my residency."

He smiles, leans in to kiss her. "Done."

She just looks at him, and there's a bit of a dangerous sparkle in her eye that he fucking loves. She bites her lip, downs her wine. "Come on." She takes his hand and leads him back toward the bathrooms, into the ladies' room, locks the door.

"What-"

She kisses him, pushes him up against the door, lets her hands sneak underneath his shirt. "It's your birthday, and you're opening this amazing place tonight, so we should probably make a memory in here before everyone else does."

She smirks devilishly up at him, and fucking _hell_ , he almost moans, because his wife is incredible and sexy as hell and he's never been more sure that she was made for him.

She wants a memory? He'll give her a damn memory.

* * *

 ** _thirty_**  
... ... ...

He doesn't know why everybody dreads turning thirty, because so far, it's pretty fucking great.

He can't believe she threw him a surprise party. His wife is sneaky as hell. She planned everything behind the guise that they were celebrating a year since the bar opened. She even invited his brother and Caroline and Alaric and Jo, and he didn't think anything of it. He didn't have a fucking clue what she'd planned for him.

He's lying in their bed that night, watching her take off her makeup in the bathroom, and he hasn't been able to wipe the smile off his face all evening. He'd be annoyed with himself but he's pretty damn happy, so it's okay.

"I can't fucking believe you."

She laughs. "You were really surprised?" She turns off the lights in the bathroom and crawls into bed next to him.

"I had no idea. I felt like such an idiot." He smiles at her. "It was awesome. Thank you."

She straddles his hips and leans down to kiss him. "It was a big day. You deserve it." She smiles. "Are you ready for your present?"

He furrows his brow. "What?" He sits up against the pillows. "There's more?"

She nods and pulls a small wrapped box from behind her back. "It's just something little."

He opens the box. "You spoil me."

She doesn't say anything, and she looks a little nervous, so now he's _really_ curious. He pulls out what looks like a - no, it is a onesie. It says _Daddy's Future Drinking Buddy_.

Holy shit.

What?

"Babe." He looks up at her, sees the tears shining in her eyes. "Are you serious?"

She nods, smiles, bites her lip. "I'm pregnant."

He lets out a breath, feels the emotion building in his throat, puts down his gift and surges forward to kiss her. He can't believe this. He knows this is what he signed up for, what he told her he wanted, and that's still true. He just… he never considered what this moment would be like. He never pictured it because it was never an option for him, and now… now it's his reality.

She laughs against his lips, cups his face in her hands. He brushes the tears from her cheeks. "Are you happy?" she asks.

"Fuck. Are you kidding me?" He kisses her again. "I can't… this is amazing. How long have you known?"

"About a week. It was so hard not to tell you."

"Well, hell, you're just full of surprises today, aren't you?" He feels her smile against his lips when he kisses her again. He moves a hand between them to press it against her stomach. "The world better watch out." She laughs, and he smiles. "I'm serious. Look at us. We're hot. Our kid is gonna be so damn cute."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, duh."

He laughs, pulls her as close to him as she can get, kisses her again. "You're fucking amazing. I love you so much."

"We love you, too," she says, and fuck, he needs to do something else or he might cry, so he rolls her underneath him and distracts them both the best way he knows how.

Being thirty is pretty damn great, if you ask him.

* * *

 ** _thirty-one_**  
... ... ...

All he wants for his birthday is a full night of sleep.

Unfortunately, their daughter doesn't understand the concept yet, so that's not an option for him.

"I'll get her," Elena says, and slips out of his arms, and he'd protest, but it is her turn, so. She brings Stella back to their bed and lays back against the pillows to feed her. "Sometimes I don't even know how I'm functioning on so little sleep."

She's a badass, his wife. She gave birth at the end of April, took her finals in May, graduated from medical school the first week in June, and she's getting ready to start her residency in pediatric surgery, all with a needy husband and a baby at home. She's fucking incredible and he's so damn proud of her he can't stand it sometimes. She's kicking ass in her career, and she's the best mom to their baby girl, and he just loves her a lot, okay?

"Say happy birthday to Daddy, princess." Elena smiles down at him, and his heart melts a little bit.

"If she _really_ wanted me to have a happy birthday, she'd sleep more than two hours at a time." He runs his hand over the dark hair on Stella's tiny head. He can't believe it's been three months since the first time he held her in his arms, AKA the single best moment of his life. (The way she grabbed onto his finger with her little fist like a lifeline? Fuck. He'll never forget that feeling.)

Elena lays her head back against the pillows, closes her eyes. "This won't last forever," she reminds him. "One day you'll miss these moments."

He squints at her. "I'll miss how tiny she is," he corrects her. "I don't think I'll miss her waking me up five times every night."

She smiles. "You'll miss all of it. She's got you wrapped around her little finger."

He scoffs. "You say that like I'm not wrapped around yours, too."

"You say that like you don't love every minute of it."

"I'm a glutton for punishment," he smirks as she lays a sleeping Stella down between them, and she just laughs at him.

In the morning, Stella wakes him up with her cute little noises, and he decides to let Elena sleep. He puts the baby in her bassinet on the kitchen counter while he fires up the stove to make some breakfast, and she just watches him, smiles at him. He smiles back at her, holds her little toes between his fingers. He kisses her tiny nose, and her little giggle melts him into a puddle. She's cute as fuck, not that he expected anything less from their shared genetics. He's a total goner.

"You know what, Squirt? You might just be my favorite birthday present I've ever gotten."

* * *

 ** _thirty-three_**  
... ... ...

At this point in his life, he really can't think of a better way to spend his birthday than hanging out at home with his baby girl. He thinks two is his favorite age, because she can walk and she can say a few words but she can't run faster than him and she can't put sentences together yet. (He's dreading three, because she's gonna be the sassiest kid on the planet, he can already tell.)

Elena was supposed to have the day off, but she got called into the hospital for an emergency surgery. He didn't need to go down to the bar today, so when she had to take off, he just stayed home with Stella. He was planning on spending the day with _both_ of his favorite girls, but they've had a pretty good day, playing outside and watching movies and napping on the couch, so he's not too upset.

The thing is, Elena promised him she'd be home in time to meet Stefan and Caroline for his birthday dinner. Then she called and said she was running late, so she'd meet them at the restaurant. He's not pissed. He's mildly annoyed.

"I'm not mad," he tells Stefan.

"Sure you're not."

"I'm not," he insists, handing Stella the pink crayon she's reaching for. "It's not her fault, and whoever she had to operate on didn't plan on needing emergency surgery today. It just fu-" he glances at his daughter. He's really had to clean his language up now that she's talking. "It just _sucks_."

"She'll be here soon," Caroline reassures him, bouncing Stella on her lap. "I'm sure she's just stuck in traffic."

His phone rings on the table, and he picks up on the first ring. "Elena?"

"Damon."

The waver in her voice puts him on edge immediately. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I just-" she takes a deep breath. "I got in a little accident, and they took me back to the hospital."

 _Fuck_. "I'm on my way. You're at your hospital?"

"Yes. Damon, I'm so sorry, I was-"

"Stop. I love you, okay? I'm coming."

He hangs up, looks around at his brother and sister-in-law. "Elena was in an accident. I need to go. Can you…"

"We've got her," Caroline insists. "Call us when you can."

He breaks about every single traffic law on the books to get to the hospital. He doesn't think he's ever felt more human than he does in this moment. Sure, car accidents are scary for vampires, but when you heal in five seconds flat and you can't really die, there's not too much to worry about. But they're both human, and this is the kind of thing that kills humans everyday. (He's fought off werewolves and evil witches and he survived a prison world but he's scared of a fucking _car accident_. How the mighty have fallen.) He needs to see her, needs to know that she's okay, even though she told him she is. He needs to see it with his own eyes, to touch her. _Fuck_. Who even invented red lights?

Thankfully, the staff at the hospital recognizes him, and they lead him straight back to her, and holy hell, he's never been so happy to see her in his life. She's got a two-inch gash on her forehead, but other than that, she just looks scared.

"Damon."

"Are you okay?" His eyes search every inch of her body. "Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head, but he runs his fingertip along her forehead, and she winces. "I'm fine, I promise, I'm just glad you're here."

He crushes her against him, and she wraps her arms tight around him. He cradles the back of her neck in his hand. "You scared the shit out of me." He pulls back to look at her again. "What happened?"

"I just stopped too suddenly at a red light, and the guy behind me couldn't stop in time." She puts her hand over his where it rests on her cheek. "And before you say anything, he is a perfectly nice man, and he feels terrible about it."

He bites back a sarcastic remark because that's not what she needs right now. "But you're okay."

"I'm fine." She kisses him. "I promise."

"Well, Dr. Salvatore, you are very lucky." He's never seen this doctor before, but then, he doesn't spend much time here, so he only knows a few of them. "Things could have been much, much worse."

Elena lets out a breath, squeezes his hand. "I know. Thank you."

The doctor smiles at her. "We ran some tests, and you're about ten weeks along, so we want to go ahead and do an ultrasound to make sure everything's okay."

Wait just a damn minute.

He looks at his wife, and she blinks back at him. She turns back to the doctor. "I'm… what?"

The doctor just stares at them. "You don't know that you're pregnant?"

Holy fuck. He's an idiot. She's been a little bit off lately, but he just thought it was because she's been stressed out and working long hours. But _of course_ she's pregnant. She dipped her strawberries in peanut butter the other day, for God's sake.

The doctor leaves to get the ultrasound tech, and they just stare at each other. "Damon… what?"

"Looks like we're gonna have to move," he smirks, and she smiles back at him. "Three works in a loft, but four's a crowd."

"Four." She looks dazed, and he runs his hand over her cheek. "I don't… Wow."

"You always said you wanted two," he reminds her.

She smiles at him. "Maybe you'll get a little boy this time."

He grimaces. "Not sure I want another Damon Salvatore running around, considering the havoc I've wreaked on this world."

She laughs, lays her head on his shoulder. "That just means you'll know how to stop him from doing the same."

His mind is churning, because this is gonna be fucking _hard_. They're gonna have to move further out, which means she's probably gonna have to get a new job. But he owns their building, so he can just rent out the apartment, and he has managers who run the bar for him these days, so he can keep an eye on things from a distance. It won't be easy, going from two-on-one to one-on-one, but they're pretty fucking awesome at this parenting thing, so they can do it.

So what the hell is he so worried about?

And then, the second they see their baby on the screen, and he sees the happy tears in Elena's eyes, his worries vanish. He squeezes her hand and kisses the grin off her face and marvels at how quickly this went from the scariest night of his life to one of the best.

* * *

 ** _thirty-five_**  
... ... ...

He doesn't think he's ever dreaded his birthday before. He's ignored it, sure, but he never wished it wouldn't come. Not until now, at least.

He's been dreading this day all summer, because today, his baby girl goes to school.

There's no fucking way Stella's old enough to go to school, even though Elena and the school both say so. She might be four years old, but she's still fucking tiny and sweet as hell. What if some asshole kid says something mean to her? What if she falls off the playground and he's not there to pick her up? Hell, she still needs him to wipe her butt half the time. And they're just supposed to send her off without a care in the world?

"Damon," Elena laughs from the bathroom where she's getting ready for the day. "It's just preschool. It's just for a few hours."

He lets out a sigh from where he's lying on their bed. "Yeah, a few hours where _anything_ can happen. I don't trust those people." He sees Elena rolls her eyes in the mirror and he scowls. "Shut up."

"You're being ridiculous." She lifts Claire out of her swing that hangs in the bathroom doorway and sets her down on his stomach, and his hands immediately come up to steady her. "Why don't you stay here with the munchkin and I'll take Stella to school before you have a meltdown."

He pouts. "At least let me say goodbye to her."

As if on cue, he hears Stella's little footsteps running down the hallway into their bedroom. "Happy birthday, Daddy, look at my dress!"

"Thank you, Squirt," he laughs, and she climbs up on the bed next to them, tickles her little sister's belly. "You look like a princess."

She smiles proudly. "I _am_ a princess."

"Yes, you are." He keeps a hand on the baby and pulls Stella into his side. "Listen. Be a good girl at school, and if anyone says anything mean to you, you come and tell me, okay?"

" _Damon_." Elena rolls her eyes again. "Come on, Stel, time to go. Give Daddy and Claire a kiss."

She kisses Claire's little cheek and then gives him the sweetest little kiss on the chin, and his heart might be breaking just a little bit. "Bye, Squirt. I love you."

"Love you, Daddy!" She calls as she follows Elena down the hall.

He turns his attention back to the baby in his lap, looking at him with her big blue eyes and chewing on her chubby little fingers. "You'll never leave me, right, Munchkin?" He lifts her up in the air, and she smiles down at him, laughs when he bounces her a little bit. "You're gonna stay this little forever."

"Dada."

"That's my name." He blows a raspberry on her cheek and she laughs again. "Let's go find you some breakfast."

He loves everything about being a dad. He never thought he was the kid type, but his kids make it easy. It helps that they're so damn cute. But they're so little, so sweet and tiny and innocent, and he wants to protect them more than anything in the world, and it's just starting to set in that he _can't_ , and it fucking sucks.

He's feeding Claire baby cereal in the highchair when Elena comes through the door with a sad little smile on her face. "Well?"

"She did great," she says. She sits down at the table on the other side of the highchair, runs her hand over Claire's head. "She was shy at first, wouldn't let go of me, but she warmed up pretty quickly. I think she'd already made a friend by the time I left."

Damon studies her face, smirks a little. "You totally cried."

She rolls her eyes. "She's not just _your_ baby, Damon, she's mine, too. I was a little sad, but she'll be okay, and so will we."

"Yeah, well." He feeds the baby another spoonful of cereal. "I guess we can't keep them in our little bubble forever."

Elena smiles at him, leans over and kisses him. "Can I say happy birthday, or are you gonna scowl at me again?"

He kisses her again. "Why don't you say it and find out."

Elena lets Claire curl her fist around her finger and waves it in the air. "Say happy birthday to Daddy, Munchkin."

"Dada!" She squeals.

"Close enough," he laughs, and okay, maybe it's not such a bad day after all.

* * *

 ** _thirty-seven_**  
... ... ...

It was her idea to have this stupid party at their house, and now she's not even here.

He didn't want a party. He didn't want to do anything, actually. Stella came home from a play date with the chicken pox last week, and she gave it to Claire, and he hasn't slept in like a week, and he just really wanted a night in with his girls, but Elena insisted they throw a party, so they did. And now she's _not even fucking here_.

It's not her fault. He knows that, logically. She had to work today, and then she had to go into an emergency surgery at four o'clock that lasted three hours, and then another surgeon called in sick so she had to stick around, and shit. He knows it's not her fault.

"Do you have any idea what time you'll be home?" He asks through the phone, wading through the crowd of his employees and their neighborhood friends and dodging the plethora of children who are running and screaming through his living room. Fuck. When did this headache get so bad?

"I don't know, babe," she sighs. "I'm sorry. I know this sucks. But…"

"You can't just leave, I know." He takes a pull of his drink, tries to calm his nerves. "I'm just really not in the mood to deal with all these people, and since you're not here to keep me in check, I'm afraid of what I might say."

She laughs a little. "Just hang in there, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can. I promise." He hears yelling in the background. "I gotta go, okay? I love you."

She hangs up before he can say it back. He loves that she loves her job, but sometimes he just fucking hates her job.

The guests finally start to clear out around ten thirty, and he starts to pick up the house, but Stefan stops him. "Dude, you look beat. Go sit down for a minute. Caroline's gonna go put the girls to bed, and I'll clean up a little."

"No," Damon says, setting down his drink. "It's okay. I'll go put the girls to bed."

He walks into the room they share and leans against the door frame, listens to Caroline reading them a story. It's their favorite these days, and he's read it so many times he thinks he could recite it in his sleep. He can't stand it, but it makes them smile, so hell if he's gonna say no to that.

"Daddy, come read with us!"

Caroline takes one look at his face and closes the book. "Okay, girls, I think it's time for bed."

"Thanks, Blondie." She squeezes his arm as she leaves the room and he sits down on Stella's bed.

"Where's Mommy?" Stella asks, and his heart breaks a little bit. Elena's been working late a lot lately. In fact, he can count on one hand the number of times she's been home for bedtime in the last two weeks.

"Mommy's still at work, Squirt," he tells her. "But she'll be home soon, and she'll come in and tuck you in, okay?" He tucks them into their beds, kisses their little cheeks, and turns out the lights. "I love you guys."

"Happy birthday Daddy!" Stella says.

"Happy birfday Dada!" Claire repeats, and he can't help but smile for the first time all night.

She's closing the door behind Stefan and Caroline when he comes down the stairs, and she crosses the foyer in two strides, wrapping her arms tight around him. "I'm so sorry," she says.

"I know you are," he sighs. "I am kind of sick of hearing you say that, though."

She pulls back, wraps her arms around his neck. "I know. I know, I've been working way too much lately. They've been pushing me around a little bit, and I've been letting them, but I put my foot down tonight."

She brushes her hair behind her ear. "What does that mean?"

"It means I quit."

That wakes him up. "You did _what_?"

She sighs. "Last week, I got a call from one of my classmates from med school, and she works for a practice in the area that has an opening for a pediatrician. Private practice, set hours. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it, but after tonight… we can't live like this anymore, Damon."

"But…" he pulls back from her, moves into the living room to sit down. "You love being a surgeon. You love what you do."

"Yes," she agrees, "I do. And I've gotten to do what I love for the past seven years because of you, because you're so amazing and supportive and you would never ask me to give it up. But I don't love it more than I love our family, and let's be honest, Damon, we haven't really been a family in too long, because of me. Because of my job. So I'm ready to give it up."

He rests his elbows on his knees, looks down at his feet. "Are you sure?" He looks up at her. "Are you absolutely sure? Don't do this for me, Elena. You know how that always ends up."

"But I can do this for you," she insists, taking his hand in hers. "Just like you took the cure for me. You were willing to give up being a vampire, being _immortal_ , for our future. For our family. And look what we have because of it." She smiles at him. "I can give up being a surgeon if it means I get my family back."

He runs his hand along her cheek, rests his forehead against hers. "You never lost us. We're right here."

She kisses him, and he realizes that he was willing to keep going the way they were if she was happy. He was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for hers, and instead, she sacrificed hers for him. They truly are partners, and they're in this together. And he has to say, it feels pretty fucking good that she chose him ( _them_ ) over her career, because he would do the same for her in a heartbeat.

"Happy birthday," she whispers against his lips.

And damn, he realizes, she really does give him the best birthday gifts.

* * *

 ** _forty_**  
... ... ...

"Happy birthday old man!"

"Do you feel old yet?"

He's got little voices in his ear and little hands on his cheeks and he's pretty sure Claire's sitting on his stomach. He opens one eye. "Who put you two up to this? Huh?"

"Nobody!"

"Uncle Ric!"

"Claire! You weren't supposed to tell him!"

While they're distracted, he sits up abruptly and wraps his arms around both of them, digging his fingers into their sides. "You have Uncle Ric to thank for this!" he yells as he tickles them mercilessly, their laughs turning to shrieks.

"Mommy!" Stella manages. "Save us!"

He looks up to find Elena leaning against the bedroom door frame, and he winks at her. "Mommy can't save you now. You woke me up and you called me _old_!"

"We didn't mean it!"

"Daddy, stop!"

He stops and looks at both of them, their cheeks flushed and their chests heaving. "Tell you what. Have Lizzie and Josie take you to find me the most beautiful shell on the beach and I'll forgive you."

"Okay!"

"Make sure it's super shiny!" He calls after them as they run down the hall, shrieking at each other. He looks at the clock, looks back to his wife and groans. "I thought the point of bringing the teenagers on this vacation was so the kids wouldn't wake us up before eight."

She laughs, sits down on the bed next to him and kisses him. "The point is that you wanted Ric and Jo to come, and the four of them are a package deal."

"Hmm." He smirks at her. "Well, now that they're gone…" he lays back down, pulls her on top of him, presses his lips firmly against hers, and she laughs against his lips.

He decided that this year, instead of a party for his big fortieth birthday, he wanted to take a vacation. He wanted to get a house on the beach for the four of them, Ric, Jo and the twins, and Stefan and Caroline. He wanted to have all the people who are most important to him in one place. (Of course, when he suggested it to Elena, it came out more like "I only want to spend my birthday with the people I can stand for more than five minutes.") It's perfect, really, because Lizzie and Josie are sixteen now, and they absolutely adore Stella and Claire, so they have built-in babysitters for moments like this.

She pulls back, smiling at him. "Happy birthday, babe."

"I'm not old."

"No, you're not." She kisses him again. "Ric's just trying to get under your skin. But he's making breakfast downstairs, so I suggest you play nice, or you might not get any."

He scoffs. "I can make my own damn breakfast."

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, dear."

"I can make my own damn breakfast," he repeats to Ric when they finally make it down to the kitchen, and Elena whacks him in the chest.

"You're welcome," Ric responds with a smirk, plating some pancakes and bacon and setting them in front of him at the breakfast bar. "Happy birthday, old man."

"I'm not old," he grumbles, taking an aggressive bite out of his bacon.

"Of course you're not, sweetie," Elena coos, kissing his cheek noisily, and he scowls.

"You all suck. I don't know why I invited any of you here."

"Because you wanted Lizzie and Josie to watch your kids, that's why," Jo reminds him, smirking as she washes the breakfast dishes at the sink.

"Mommy!" Speak of the little devils. They come streaking into the house through the back sliding door, Lizzie and Josie following close behind. "Can we go swimming with Uncle Stefan?"

Stefan and Caroline appear in the living room, closing the sliding door behind them. "Why is it that when Uncle Stefan's involved, they always forget about Aunt Caroline?"

Elena laughs. "Go put your bathing suits on, and make sure you pick out clean ones!" She turns back to her best friend. "Don't worry, they forget about Mommy when Daddy's involved, too."

"Oh, please," Damon scoffs.

"They're obsessed with you," Elena insists.

Ric claps him on the shoulder. "Having a couple of Daddy's girls is not the worst thing in the world, man," he laughs.

"You're a good dad, brother," Stefan chimes in. "Embrace it."

"Alright, alright, that's enough, you can _all_ have a piece of birthday cake, you don't need to butter me up anymore."

Elena rolls her eyes, and when everyone heads upstairs to change, she rests her chin on his shoulder. "You really are the best dad, you know that?"

He smirks over at her. "I just follow your lead, babe."

She rolls her eyes. "Just say thank you."

He presses his lips to hers sweetly. "Thank you, wife."

She runs her hand over his cheek. "So now that you're… _almost_ old," she smirks. "Do you wish you were still a vampire?"

He furrows his brow. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Well," she laughs. "You wouldn't be aging if you'd stayed a vampire."

"Yes, but I also wouldn't have you," he reminds her, "Or those two little girls that I love more than anything in the world." He puts his fork down and turns to face her. "I would rather die tomorrow than live forever without you, without all three of you."

She smiles. "Even though we're gonna get old and wrinkly soon?"

He nods. "Even then, because we'll still be the best-looking badasses in the nursing home."

She laughs, leans in to kiss him again. "I love you so much."

He winks at her. "I love you more."

And okay, maybe that's not true, because she must love him _a whole lot_ to put up with his bullshit for the rest of their lives, but it feels pretty damn true. It hasn't been easy, but he meant what he said; he'd rather die tomorrow than live forever without them.

Sure, he misses the super strength, and the super speed, and the invincibility of being immortal. But he doesn't miss it more than he loves his wife, or his kids, or the life they've built together. So yeah, he may only get a handful more birthdays with them, but he knows when his time comes, he'll die a happy man with a long, fulfilled life. What more could he ask for, really?


End file.
